Lines of Communication
by Christina K
Summary: Sequel to Runaway Trains at 3 A.M. In which secrets are revealed, Clark and Dawn explain, and 362.57 of long distance charges are almost blamed on the Legion of Dorkness.
1. Busted

This is a follow-up to "Runaway Trains at 3 A.M.", which is posted  
under the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" category here on fanfiction.net.  
Part 1 tonight, Part 2 tomorrow, and so on; it's all done, but I'm  
still in the middle of rewrites. Comments welcomed at   
kikimariposa@prodigy.net.  
  
Standard Disclaimer: Clark & Dawn & all other characters belong  
to Joss Whedon, DC Comics, Warner Bros., Mutant Enemy, yadda   
yadda yawn; the story is my own, and may not be re-posted  
without permission. Non-Standard Disclaimer: No long distance   
satellites were damaged in the making of this fic.  
  
Spoilers through "Doublemeat Palace" for BtVS, and "Rogue" and "Hug"  
for Smallville.   
  
Thanks to the Perri, Dee, Tina, Celli, Lizbet & Val for commenting  
and betaing and snickering.  
  
"Lines of Communication" (1/6)  
by C. L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
"Holy mother of cellphones."  
  
Willow looked up from the computer, where she was trying to track down any  
trace of Warren, Jonathan and Andrew, without success. The Nerd Herd were  
keeping their heads down; Jonathan must have told them about her  
interrogation techniques. Either that, or they were all mortally   
terrified of Buffy. Proving that they might be only human, but they  
were still miles smarter than the average vamp.  
  
Although if they could've seen the Slayer's slack-jawed stare right then,  
they would have probably started planning for their next Festival of World  
Domination. "What've you got there?"  
  
"The phone bill. At least, I think it's the phone bill. It could be the  
serial number to the cordless, easy. Jeez. Did you do this? Look at this!"  
Buffy dropped the bill onto the computer keyboard, and Willow picked it  
up, then blinked in shock as she read the total at the bottom of the page.  
  
"Whoa. I didn't do this. Nuh-unh."  
  
"Well, I know *I* didn't do this!" Buffy fumed, wildly waving her arms  
around in denial. "Two hundred and twelve dollars! How the hell could this  
happen? We don't know anyone to run up this kind of bill with! I called  
Giles a couple of times this month, but nothing like this!"  
  
"Maybe it's a mistake." Willow frowned. "Or -- ooo, thought! -- maybe  
someone hacked your account? The Legion of Dorkness, maybe?"  
  
"It has to be. We don't *know* anyone in Kansas, and that's where all the  
calls are going."  
  
"Kansas? That's weird. The Bahamas I could see, or the Cayman Islands, or  
one of those 1-900-SEX numbers. But... what's in Kansas?"  
  
Buffy took back the bill and squinted at the long column of phone numbers  
and the names of the cities printed next to them. "Some place called  
Smallville, looks like." She grinned, relaxing a little, probably at the  
hope of an easy explanation. "And take a moment to savor the quaint, there."  
  
"Buffy, we're living in Sunnydale, which sounds like the orange juice  
capitol of the world, not the Home of the Hellmouth. I don't think we have  
room to mock."  
  
"Yes we do. It's _Kansas_," Buffy responded definitely. "I'm going to call  
and find out what the Geek Troika are up to."  
  
Willow was suddenly reminded of a couple too many episodes of the Twilight Zone  
that she'd watched with Xander. "Maybe that's their plan, though. Maybe  
you'll get sucked into an evil parallel dimension if you call that number!"  
  
"Through the *phone*?"  
  
"Weirder things have happened. To us, even."  
  
Buffy gave her a skeptical look, which you couldn't completely blame her  
for. "Yeah, but can you see AT&T putting up with that? Seriously? Anyone  
using their fiber optics for evil would infringe on their franchise."  
  
"Well, okay, so it wouldn't be easy, but it might be *possible*---"  
  
"Fine, Will." Buffy picked up the receiver and made a face at the phone.  
"Cover me, I'm dialing. If you see a blue swirly doorway start to form, pull  
the plug."  
  
"Right. Ready and in position to yank," she responded, leaning over to tug  
on the phone cord.  
  
Anyone who'd dated a demon through the Internet learned the power of  
"shut it off, Dave" real quick. Hopefully, this wasn't going to be anywhere  
near as bad.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
*~riiiiing riiiiing*~  
*~riiiiing riiiiing*~  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Um, hello? Who is this?"  
  
"This is Martha Kent. May I ask who's calling?"  
  
"(It doesn't sound like a demon, Will. It sounds like my mom.)... Uh, this  
is Buffy Summers. You don't know me, but I live in Sunnydale, California,  
and I just got the world's largest phone bill, and the long distance charges  
all have your number on them. I was kind of hoping you'd know what that was  
about."  
  
"Funny you should say that... I was just going over *our* phone bill, and we  
have more than a hundred and fifty dollars worth of long distance charges to  
Sunnydale, California."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"I wish I were. This is outrageous."  
  
"*Tell* me about it. It's got to be a mistake. Or a scam, or some creep's  
idea of a joke. We don't even know anyone in Smallville."  
  
"Your phone number is 962-555-1157, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, that's us. Mega-bizarre. I think I know who to blame, though. So, are  
you with a software or video games company? Or a woman's lingerie catalog?"  
  
"Neither. We raise organic produce."  
  
"Hunh. Didn't see that coming. Maybe they just liked your phone number.  
Maybe it's one of those, those math thingies. The square root of an exotic  
number, or one where it's the same backwards and forwards? No, that can't  
be it...."  
  
"I don't know about the square roots, but are you saying you think someone  
deliberately ran up these charges on our bills?"  
  
"Uh, I kind of know these guys... they're not my biggest fans, and they're  
into this sort of thing, hacking and illegal stuff--- it's exactly what  
they'd pull. The only part I don't get is why they charged phone time off to  
you, too. You haven't annoyed any geeks lately, have you?"  
  
"Not that I'm aware of."  
  
"Okay. Uh, sorry about this. I'm going to call the phone company and try to  
get the charges removed--- you should probably do the same thing.   
Otherwise, knowing these jerks? They'll just keep doing it."  
  
"Well, thank you for calling. I really -- Clark, you put that cookie back  
this instant, dinner's in half an hour! Honestly... I really appreciate  
your help in trying to figure this out."  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I was talking to my son. Who does *not* need more sugar in his  
system."  
  
"Your son's name is *Clark*?!"  
  
"Yes, it is. Why? You sound upset---"  
  
"I'm going to kill her. I'm going to shake her until her tiny teenage brain  
cells rattle, ground her until she's seventy, and then I'm going. To. KILL.  
Her!"  
  
"*Excuse* me?"  
  
"Buffy, what's wrong?"  
  
"My sister's just trying to put my blood pressure through the stratosphere  
again, that's all... Mrs. Kent, do you know, I mean--- has your son  
mentioned anyone named Dawn to you?"  
  
".... Oh, dear. Clark, you get back down here! Right now!"  
  
"You are so right, 'oh dear.' I can't believe this. I can't believe she  
*did* this."  
  
"Miss Summers, I am so sorry. I had no idea--- he'd mentioned Dawn  
to us, but the way he talked about her, I thought she was a new student at  
Smallville High. And I certainly didn't know he was calling her long  
distance."  
  
"Mom? What's up?"  
  
"Plenty. Want to take a look at this phone bill, and see if there's anything  
you need to tell me about?"  
  
"Dawn said he was helping her with her math homework. And she was giving him  
girlfriend advice. I thought *he* was the new kid *here*."  
  
"Martha? What's going on?"  
  
"Your son has made a little mistake with his phone charges. What do you have  
to say for yourself, young man?"  
  
"... Oops? And, I'm very, very sorry and it'll never happen again? Ever?"  
  
"'Oops' my foot, and darn right it won't. Look at this, Jonathan."  
  
"Whoa. How on earth...?"  
  
"I guess Dawn and I kind of lost track of time. We've just had a lot to talk  
about, lately... and she's really cool...."  
  
"Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Summers, I'm still here. I'm sorry for the distraction. My son is  
trying to cute his way out of this."  
  
"I'm not! Well, not much...."  
  
"Could you ask him how he knows my sister in the first place? Because if  
she's making new friends through the internet chat rooms, that's a whole  
'nother argument I need to have with her."  
  
"Hang on, I'll ask him...."  
  
"I'll tell her about Moloch again, if that'll help."  
  
"... Fat chance. I think she's been kidnapped too many times to be scared  
when she should be, the little psycho...."  
  
"Clark, Dawn's sister wants to know how you and Dawn became   
friends. Did you meet online? I thought you understood why we didn't  
want you to trust people you've never met personally---"  
  
"Ummmm... That's kind of .... "  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Son, now is not the time to be stonewalling us. Where did you meet this  
Dawn?"  
  
"See, the thing is? I've already been punished for how Dawn and I met,  
but... I'm not sure she ever told her sister about it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Clark, you're not making any sense. Just tell us the truth. You won't be  
getting your friend into any more trouble."  
  
"Actually, I kind of will be. And I don't want to. But since it's already  
mostly out in the open... Remember what happened before Christmas?  
When I sort of freaked out and, uh, left town?"  
  
"Ye-ess..."  
  
"I met Dawn in Denver. Right before Lex got there."  
  
"Okay. So why wouldn't her sister know about this?"  
  
"Because she was running away too and then this guy who's a friend of her  
sister's showed up and took her home, and I don't think they ever told Buffy  
about it because Dawn was supposed to be on a campout, and she didn't want  
to get her sister upset or get in trouble and I think... I think they kind  
of just ... never mentioned it. To her. Buffy, I mean."  
  
"Oh, *dear*."  
  
"Aw, Clark...."  
  
"I'll pay for the phone bill, Dad, I swear...."  
  
"Mrs. Kent? What's he saying?"  
  
"I think you need to have a little talk with your sister, dear."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
"It wasn't in the internet chat rooms. And, well... my son has never been to  
California. In fact, the farthest west he's ever been is Denver. Right  
before Christmas."  
  
"Oh God. Oh, *God*. Are you saying---"  
  
"I *really* think you should be discussing this with your sister, Miss  
Summers."  
  
"I'm not just going to kill her. I'm going to *eviscerate* her... Well not  
really, of course. I just can't believe she... Thank you for clearing this  
up, Mrs. Kent. I have to go find my sister and interrogate her now. Possibly  
with hot lights and a truth serum. I'm so, so sorry about your phone bill.  
It won't happen again. Dawn's never going to be allowed near a  
phone again for the rest of her natural life, however long that is."  
  
"Well, I've got a teenager here who's looking at the same thing, at least  
for the next two weeks. I think the blame is pretty equally distributed in  
this case."  
  
"Aww, Mom... C'mon, it was an accident... Mostly...."  
  
"Don't even try, Clark. I'm very annoyed with your behavior right now."  
  
"Let her cool off before you mount a defense, son. Especially since we both  
know you *know* better than this."  
  
"Thank you for being so understanding, Mrs. Kent. I just... I'm really,  
really sorry. I have to go."  
  
"That's okay, dear. Please explain to Dawn why she won't be hearing  
from my son for a while."  
  
"Yeah. I'll do that. Tell Clark the same thing, okay?"  
  
"I certainly will. Good-bye. And remember, she had help in this little  
fiasco. Try not to be too hard on her."  
  
"Right. Like that's possible... Good-bye, Mrs. Kent."  
  
"Good-bye, Miss Summers."  
  
  
  
  
Willow was watching her anxiously as Buffy slowly replaced the phone   
receiver, still furious. "Well? What did they say? Where did Dawn meet  
her friend Clark?"  
  
"I still don't know that, but the bad news is? It wasn't online. And Clark  
Kent's never been west of the Mississippi. Or, wait. Which side of the  
Mississippi is Kansas on? It's another one of those stupid square states,  
right? So that's in the middle part---" Buffy scowled, distracted, trying to   
remember which square one was next to Iowa, then she gave up. "Whatever,   
he's never been past Denver. Which is nowhere *near* California."  
  
"Oh." Willow blinked, then blinked again, her face reflecting the shock  
and horror buried way down underneath Buffy's anger. "Oh! Oh, no.  
You mean Dawn..."  
  
"I mean she has some 'splaining to do, and I must be even more blind and  
clueless than I thought, if she managed to meet a boy from Kansas somewhere  
else completely while my back was turned." She crumpled the phone  
bill up in one hand, then stopped to straighten it out with short, choppy  
gestures, wishing she could tear it to pieces. Too bad the phone company   
would just print out another one. Too bad it wasn't five minutes ago, when  
she'd just been annoyed at Warren and the Goof Squad, instead of   
half-ready to threaten her sister with a good staking. "God, Will, I am  
going to strangle her if she tries to lie her way out of this. Or lock her  
in the basement until she's ready for menopause.... How could I *miss*  
this? How stupid am I? I can't believe---"  
  
"Calm down, okay? She won't tell you *anything* if you come over all Spanish  
Inquisition," Willow interrupted, sounding like the pre-meltdown Willow  
of a few months ago again. NormalWillow kept peeking out from behind  
StressWillow the last few weeks, which was great. Buffy only wished   
NormalDawn hadn't decided to leave the building in the meantime,   
and possibly Sunnydale, without telling her about it. Willow patted   
her on the arm. "Just let her tell her side of it first. You can do the   
cross-examining if she clams up."   
  
Which was very good advice. And it wasn't like she was stupid.   
"I know, I know. Calm. Mature. Understanding Buffy. This is me,   
being Wise and Sensible Big Sister. Ready to listen and advise. Yup."   
  
Willow was giving her a 'humor-the-loony' look. "Uh-hunh."  
  
"What?"  
  
Will winced and pointed. "You kind of... crushed the receiver,   
there. Maybe you should wait until your fingers unclench before you   
talk to her."  
  
"Damnit." Buffy stared at the phone and the broken casing, then  
slammed it back down into the cradle. "Damnit! You know what?   
Screw understanding. She's at the Magic Box helping Anya. Maybe  
the presence of witnesses will keep me from losing it. And if not,  
at least I won't be destroying any more of *our* stuff when I   
freak out."  
  
Nodding carefully, Willow followed her as she stomped toward the  
front door, snagging her purse on the way. "Sounds like a plan.   
I'll drive, okay? 'Cause you should probably practice that breathing  
thing on the way there."   
  
"Right." Dawn was *not* going to make her crazy. She was *not*  
going to make Buffy lose her temper. And she would not, no, definitely  
not, mess this up. Dawn was going to see reason, tell the truth,   
and explain everything, because she could handle this. She was the   
grown-up, damnit. And nothing the little twerp could say was going  
to change that.  
  
***  
  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
Kikimariposa@prodigy.net  
More to come... 


	2. Kents Counseling

Lines of Communication (2/6)  
by C. L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
It was at times like these that Martha honestly forgot Clark was  
adopted.  
  
"What we don't understand is *why*, Clark. Okay, so you lost track of how  
much time you were spending on the phone with this girl. And you just forgot  
to mention it to us, however flaky that was." Jonathan grimaced and shook  
his head. "But why did you need to talk to a friend in California for over  
thirty hours this month anyway? What could you possibly have to talk about  
that was that important?"  
  
"That's... really complicated." The guilty look on Clark's face was the  
*exact* same one that Jonathan got when he tracked grease into the house after  
working on his motorcycle for umpteen hours. How was that possible?  
And how could it provoke the same mix of love and exasperation if they  
weren't related, especially when Clark was over twenty years younger and  
at least had adolescence as an excuse?  
  
Maybe that old myth about adoptive families starting to look like each other  
wasn't that far off after all.  
  
Jonathan smiled grimly at their son and leaned forward on the kitchen table.  
"Explain it slowly, the old people will try to follow along."  
  
"You're really mad at me, aren't you."  
  
Martha sighed. "Your dad and I aren't mad at you, Clark." He raised his  
eyebrows disbelievingly at her in an expression she'd seen in the mirror  
just last week, and she felt her mouth twitch. "Well, we are about the phone  
bill. But mostly we're concerned. We don't want you keeping things from us---  
that's what led to you taking off for a week in December." Half his friends  
in the hospital being treated for burns and smoke inhalation, she and  
Jonathan worried out of their minds that he'd gone so silent and sad,   
Reporters pestering everyone in sight, and he decided to try and deal with his  
confusion on his own... Clark just had to imitate Jonathan in the *worst* ways,  
didn't he? "We want to *help*. Please, just tell us what's going on."  
  
"Okay. So... Umm...." Clark frowned hard, then took a deep breath and  
dived in, glancing from her to Jonathan and back, his expression nervous  
but basically as sincere as her intrinsically honest son was capable of.  
"I met Dawn in Denver right before Lex found me, and... I was still pretty  
confused. And the thing was, was that she was just as confused as me.  
She was having a rough time at home, and she... she got it." He shrugged  
uncomfortably, and dropped his eyes to the tabletop. "All of the stuff  
I was going through, about being a freak, and feeling like things were my  
fault---"  
  
"It wasn't your fault, son. None of the disasters that happen in Smallville are  
because of you. You know that." Jonathan's hands clenched in frustration,  
and Martha put one hand over his, rubbing his knuckles.  
  
The boy who'd set the fire had been using some kind of fuel he derived from  
the meteor rocks; and no matter how many times they told Clark that he  
wasn't responsible for the shower, or what happened after it, it was clear  
he'd never quite accepted it. Maybe it was easier for him to think it was  
his fault in some way than it was to think about the sheer random chance that  
had brought him to Smallville; easier to cope with all he *didn't* know.  
Whenever Martha thought about the meteor shower, very late at night, she   
ended up shuddering at the places a tiny rocket ship could have landed   
instead of an empty corn field. And at the people who might  
have found Clark instead of herself and Jonathan.   
  
"I know. I do know that." The earnestness on their son's face wasn't faked,  
but she knew it wasn't all of his thoughts on the subject. "But Dawn---  
when she said it, it almost made sense, you know? Because she didn't have to.  
So... we hung out. And, I kind of felt like... I helped her too. There was a  
lot of junk she said she couldn't talk to her family about either. We just got  
to be friends real fast."  
  
"So you stayed in contact after you came home. That's understandable."  
Jonathan blew out a slow breath, unclenching his hands. "But you aren't---  
Clark, you aren't talking to her about what bothers you instead of us, or  
your other friends, are you? Just because she isn't here, and that makes  
it easier to keep secrets from her?"  
  
"No! Well, not really. Not at all. Except...." Clark bit his lip and looked  
from Jonathan to Martha and then back, and recognizing the expression  
she steeled herself for whatever new surprise Clark was going to reveal.  
Last time it had been seeing through walls....  
  
"What? Go on. It's okay, Clark," she encouraged him.  
  
"See, I had to talk to somebody when Dad was in jail, and about the  
blackmail and Phelan--- but I couldn't talk to Chloe because she wasn't  
speaking to me, and I couldn't tell Pete or Lana or Lex the whole truth. And  
even if I had told any of them, like if I told Lex maybe, they might've done  
something that would've gotten them in trouble with Phelan too...."  
  
"And? What has that got to do with---"  
  
"Dawn knows about me," Clark blurted out, then winced.  
  
"Knows what?" Jonathan stared at their son, while Martha covered her face with  
her hands, shaking her head.  
  
It had to happen eventually. But she'd never known what she was going  
to say when it did. It was amazing, in one way, that Clark had never told  
anyone in the last twelve years that he was different. Even Phelan's   
discovery of his special abilities didn't cover this. "Oh, Clark..."  
  
"Wait a minute. She *knows* about you? How did that happen? Clark!"  
The outrage in Jonathan's voice made her drop her hands, because now was *not*  
the time to stay in shock.  
  
"Jonathan---"  
  
"I knew you'd freak." Clark was kicking the chair supports, which he only  
did when upset; the rest of the time he *knew* he could break one if he wasn't  
careful. Martha reached out for his hand, giving it a squeeze, and he stopped,  
shooting her a grateful look.  
  
"I think we're justified in 'freaking'! After what we just went through with  
that--- *cop*---" Jonathan had used much less restrained language when  
he'd finally been released from jail, but not in their son's hearing. Her  
own swearing had been confined to a blue streak while alone in the car,  
in tears just after the arrest. Either way, the memory of the Metropolis  
detective's attempted blackmail was far too fresh for Clark's little  
revelation to be welcome news to either of them.  
  
"She's nothing like Phelan! And I didn't tell her, she just--- figured it  
out." Clark shrugged helplessly again, giving them his most appealing  
look, his voice speeding up as he went on. "She saw me do something,  
and... I tried to lie, I tried to tell her she had it wrong, but she didn't  
believe me. She just knew. What was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Well, you should've told us, for starters." Jonathan shook his head in  
reproach, and Clark ducked his head again. "I don't think you appreciate how  
serious this is. What if she's told someone about you? What if---"  
  
"I do too appreciate it!" Clark's head shot up in protest, and his jaw  
clenched with a stoniness to match his father's. "I get it. Especially  
after two weeks ago, I get it. And that's why being friends with Dawn  
is so... cool. She doesn't *care*." He leaned forward, looking from Jonathan  
to Martha pleadingly, his hands clenching and unclenching with excess  
emotion. "She honestly doesn't. She treats me exactly the same way  
Chloe and Pete do, but I don't have to lie to her. She gets  
what it's like to be different, and she gets what it's like for *me* to be  
different, and she still likes me. She's funny and awesome and she's  
my friend. She hasn't told anyone and she's not going to." He  
swallowed and leaned back, defensive and fifteen again now that he'd made  
his point. "And, and, uh... that's it, I guess."  
  
Jonathan glanced at her and raised a 'what do *you* think?' eyebrow;  
Martha rolled her eyes, giving him a tiny shake of her head. Jonathan  
pursed his lips and glared half-heartedly at Clark.  
  
Who tried to smile innocently and hopefully at them both. "I'm sorry  
I didn't tell you about her sooner. And I'm *completely* sorry  
about the phone bill. I'll pay it out of my savings." Jonathan snorted in  
agreement, and Martha just managed to stop herself from making  
some comment on the patently obvious. "But please don't ask me  
to stop being friends with Dawn."  
  
She glanced at Jonathan and tapped her fingers on the table, shrugging her  
shoulders slowly and tilting her head in consideration. Jonathan rubbed his  
eyes and grimaced. When he looked at her again, she bit her lower lip and  
raised her eyebrows, and Jonathan sighed.  
  
When you'd been married over fifteen years, you didn't need any kind of special  
powers to read each others' minds. And it was obvious to both of them that  
this friendship meant too much to Clark to outright forbid it. It wouldn't  
have worked with Lex Luthor; it wasn't going to work now. Martha just hoped that  
his attachment to the girl wasn't something that would come back and bite  
them later.  
  
Jonathan gave a long, loud sigh. ".... All right. We're not going to do  
that. You can stay friends with this Dawn."  
  
"Jonathan---" A token protest would keep Clark from thinking his parents  
were going easy on him, and make sure he understood *why* they were trusting him.  
  
"Think about it, honey. This girl's known about Clark for over a month, and  
she hasn't told her own sister about him. Obviously, Clark can trust her."  
Jonathan's brows came down in a stern look at their son, who shifted in  
his seat. "I'm not real thrilled that she's got him keeping stuff from us as  
well---"  
  
"I just didn't think it was important. Not really important. I mean, she's  
in California. It's not like I see her every day," Clark protested.  
  
Martha crossed her arms and joined in the glaring. "No, but you've  
been *talking* to her nearly every day."  
  
A blush worked its way up Clark's face, and he dropped his eyes again. Half  
guilt, and half embarrassment, she diagnosed. For a boy who was smart enough to  
calculate their mortgage interest rate without a calculator, Clark sometimes  
had stunning lapses in judgment. "Um, well... yeah...."  
  
"But that's not the point. The point is... this is important to you. But no  
more secrets!" She took his hand again, giving it a squeeze of  
reassurance. "Is there anything you're leaving out? Something else that  
Dawn's sister should know about, for instance?"  
  
Clark shook his head, relaxing again. "There's one or two other things I'm  
not telling you, but it's all personal stuff about Dawn, and her sister  
already knows all that."  
  
"You're sure?" Jonathan's eyes narrowed in consideration, and Clark  
nearly nodded his head off in his eagerness to answer.  
  
"Yes! I'm sure. I just--- I can't tell you guys secrets she told me, can I?"  
he asked, his shoulders lifting helplessly. "That wouldn't be fair."  
  
Martha stifled a smile. "He's got a point."  
  
"I guess. It doesn't seem like he should be able to have a point right now,  
but..." Jonathan rumbled, disgruntled.  
  
"But since we're admitting you have a point, Clark...." She paused,  
making sure he was looking at her before she went on, her voice  
serious. "You have to accept that there are going to be no more long  
distance phone calls for at least two weeks."  
  
"Two weeks? Awww..." For all the whining, the look in Clark's eyes was half  
relief, and Martha let herself smile at him.  
  
"Have a little mercy on our phone lines, son. You can email her or whatever  
else you've been doing to talk to her regularly." Jonathan rolled his  
shoulders in irritation, shaking his head as Clark slumped in his chair. "But  
the constant calls have to stop. You can talk on the weekends when the rates  
are down, but you're going to have to pay for the calls. *After* you pay us   
back for the ones you already made."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Assuming her family ever lets her talk to *you* again. Her sister sounded  
absolutely furious about their phone bill," Martha observed, raising her  
eyebrows.  
  
Jonathan pursed his lips in bemusement "Seriously, how did the two of  
you not notice how much time you were spending talking on the phone?"  
  
"I dunno. We just didn't." Clark looked sheepish again, his voice  
plaintive. "She's really easy to talk to."  
  
Jonathan rolled his eyes but didn't comment beyond an "Uh-hunh." For  
which she was grateful; any more questioning would only make their son  
withdraw into further self-consciousness. Clark was always so aware of  
doing the right thing, and in the grand scheme of things, one phone bill  
was pretty darn minor. Sometimes Jonathan didn't know when to let things  
go, though.  
  
"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad we got this cleared up. And I hope  
you know you can still talk to us about anything that's bothering you,  
sweetheart," she added, patting Clark's hand.  
  
"I do. Really, I do," he repeated, smiling at them hopefully. "Can I talk  
to Dawn one last time before we're on phone probation, though? I just  
want to make sure she knows I didn't mean to tell on her about running  
away."  
  
Martha smiled and exchanged a rueful glance with Jonathan. "I think  
we'll leave that up to her family, okay? I'll give them a call  
tomorrow to let them know about the length of your punishment. Just so  
there's no confusion on their end."  
  
"Okay... am I in any more trouble?" Clark asked, getting up from the table.  
  
"No, I think we can agree that this was mostly a mistake, and not a real  
screw-up... but we'll talk about the phone bill again when you get your  
allowance," Jonathan added significantly.  
  
"Uh, right." Their son made a face and shrugged in resignation. "I'm gonna  
go over to Lex's now, if that's okay. We're supposed to be playing  
pool--- and I'm real sorry I worried you guys. Again," he said soberly,  
looking from Martha to Jonathan, green eyes solemn.  
  
"We know. It's fine. Don't keep Lex waiting," she added as he put on his  
jacket.  
  
"Oh, he can do that...." Jonathan muttered, then at her admonishing look,  
rolled his eyes and raised his voice. "Be back by ten, son."  
  
"I will. 'Bye." One quick wide grin of relief, and a whooosh! as Clark  
zipped out the door, barely giving her time to call out a farewell before   
the door slammed behind him.  
  
"Bye, honey."  
  
Jonathan slumped back in his chair, his expression relaxing into one  
less stern and more worried. "So. Do you think he told us everything?"  
  
"I'm pretty sure he did." She leaned her chin on her hands and frowned.  
"I think he really did just forget what he was doing. It's been a busy  
month. But I wish we knew more about this girl and her situation. Why she ran  
away, if her reasons were more or less serious than his." She shook her head  
and folded her hands, meeting Jonathan's eyes and seeing her own fears  
reflected there. "And I don't like that she knows so much about Clark."  
  
"Me either... You don't think it's... I don't know. Something more than  
friendship, between them?" Jonathan asked hesitantly, his tone uncomfortable.  
  
She shook her head, feeling that she was at least on certain ground on  
*that* subject. "You know how hung up he is on Lana. I don't think he'd   
still be trying to ask her out if he was thinking about some girl in  
California."  
  
"I guess not."  
  
"When did everything with our son get so complicated, Jonathan?" She  
wished she could pin down when she'd stopped worrying about Clark's  
physical safety more than she worried about him emotionally. Some time in   
the last year, maybe when they told him about the ship in the storm cellar,  
everything became more--- intense. Like they were walking on a knife edge  
that they didn't dare fall off, because the consequences to Clark could be so  
catastrophic. Having to give the right answers to every question for fear of  
what he would do if he went off half-cocked, or got some wild idea to--- well,  
run off to Denver. For example.  
  
"When *weren't* things complicated with Clark?" Jonathan rubbed  
a hand over his face and then through his hair. "He's growing up, honey.  
Turning into his own person. We just have to make sure he knows he can tell  
us what he's going through."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if this is all too hard on him." She got up from the  
table and stretched, turning away from her husband with a sigh. "Keeping all  
these secrets from his friends. Maybe this is a good thing," she added,  
turning back to Jonathan. "Having someone his own age who he can  
talk to about being--- different." If his new friend didn't let him down, and  
if the girl appreciated what she had in him. And if whatever had sent   
Dawn Summers running from her home didn't reach out for Clark.  
  
The doubt and fear in Jonathan's face wasn't completely overshadowed  
by his half-hearted smile. "Maybe. We can hope so."  
  
"Time will tell, I guess." Nothing more to be done, except be  
ready for the worst. Although she'd long ago given up imagining what  
that would be with Clark. "Do you want some dessert?"  
  
"There's dessert?"  
  
"Oreo cookie pie. Clark was in such a hurry he forgot to ask about it."  
  
"Yeah, definitely. That's not going to happen again soon." Jonathan smirked  
as he got up from the table, and she swatted him on the arm.  
  
"Are you begrudging your son his share of the pie?"  
  
"His share, no. His share *and* my share? Oh yeah." Jonathan grinned  
at her, the grin their son smiled when he was especially, obnoxiously  
pleased with himself, and as usual, she couldn't help but smile back.  
"You ever think his appetite's never going to stop growing?"  
  
"Occasionally. Then I remember what *you* still eat." She shook her head  
tolerantly. "Get the plates down, I'll cut you an extra-large slice."  
  
"You are a wonderful, understanding woman. Who makes great pies,"  
her husband told her very seriously, his arms going around her as he  
reached for the plates over her head.  
  
"Keep it up, and I'll put whipped cream on it too."  
  
Whatever else happened, Martha was infinitely grateful that she wasn't  
trying to do this alone. Clark nearly had them outnumbered as it  
was--- if Jonathan weren't there to lean on, it would have been   
impossible. And she couldn't believe it would've been any easier if   
Clark *hadn't* been special/different/unlike every other kid. Briefly, she  
wondered about his friend's family, and if it was any easier for them.  
  
But only briefly. Fighting off Jonathan's whipped cream attack kept her  
too busy to dwell on it for very long. Honestly, there were times she wondered  
who the teenager in the house actually was....  
  
***  
  
Buffy & Dawn showdown, up next. With color commentary by most of the  
Scoobies.  
  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
Kikimariposa@prodigy.net 


	3. Summers' Shrieking

And still more angst! : Thanks for the comments so far... yes, a third story  
is being worked on; but I'm not telling whether we'll end up in Sunnydale or  
Smallville yet. Could go either way, depending on the shows.  
  
Lines of Communication (3/6)  
by C.L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
Anya didn't glance up from the cash register at the sound   
of the Magic Box's welcoming bell, but she did paste a huge smile  
on her face and wave at Buffy and Willow, her usual spiel   
unspooling before she even saw who stood in the doorway.   
"Good afternoon, customers! Welcome to the Magic--- oh, it's you two."  
  
Willow rolled her eyes and caught the door Buffy had flung open,  
easing it gently shut. "Good to see you too, Anya. Niiiice attitude."  
  
Buffy stomped over to the counter, glaring around the store since her   
delinquent sister was nowhere in sight. "Where is she?"  
  
Anya ignored her question in favor of shooting Willow a quelling look.   
"You'd be disappointed to see your friends as well, if the rain had kept  
your rightful customers from shopping all day. It's almost like an evil  
plot, the way the weather is cutting into the profit margin. You should do  
something about this," she added matter-of-factly, finally glancing at Buffy   
before she went back to organizing the money in the till.  
  
Buffy gaped at her, then shook her head, trying to clear it. "I what?  
Anya, I'm not in charge of the rain. Or making sure it doesn't. I'm  
the Slayer. Not the Cloud-Killer. Get over it. Now, where's Dawn?"  
  
Anya shrugged, still looking vaguely irritable. "She's in the  
basement, stocking the shelves. We just got a new shipment  
of mandrake and mint leaves. As well as musk ox glands."  
  
Buffy gritted her teeth and held onto her patience with all ten  
fingernails, since being annoyed at Anya was not the priority  
it usually would be. "Could you get her up here? Please? It's  
kind of important."  
  
"I suppose. Since your refusal to deal with Mother Nature's   
snit-fit means I have no customers to wait on," the ex-vengeance  
demon sniffed, before shutting the cash drawer and going in   
search of Dawn.  
  
Willow drifted over to the counter and perched on a nearby stool,   
her expression uneasy as she watched the Slayer begin to pace  
the length of the counter. "Calm, Buffy. Remember? Mature and  
wise older sister? Understanding, listening?"  
  
"Not killing. *Not* maiming. Not even gonna be yelling," she answered,  
her arms crossed and a finger tapping on her arm. "Nope. Not me. But  
anything more is questionable."  
  
"Well, good." Willow sighed, then muttered in what was probably   
supposed to be an inaudible tone, "'Cause we wouldn't want Dawn  
to be defensive and all...."  
  
The sound of her sister's bouncy footsteps made Buffy tense up before  
she consciously relaxed the muscles in her shoulders and turned around,  
and the bright smile Dawn greeted her with was, for once, no help.   
  
"Hey guys. What's going on?"  
  
"Hey Dawnie. Uh, Buffy got the phone bill today---" Willow said   
hesitantly, before Buffy cut in, scowling at her now-wary sister.  
  
"---and you are in a world of trouble, young lady."  
  
Dawn blinked and crossed her arms, mirroring Buffy's posture,  
striking an aggrieved pose. "What? What'd I do? Why are you   
glaring at me like I stole your best slay-boots?"  
  
"Why don't you take a look at these numbers on the bill, and  
*you* tell *me*," Buffy said significantly, handing the abused  
piece of paper over to Dawn.  
  
The expression on her sister's face went from confusion, to growing   
understanding and chagrin, with a quick fade into would-be nonchalant,  
ruined by her quick swallow before she spoke. "Oh. Hunh.... So.  
What's with all the calls to Kansas? Looks wrong to me. Maybe  
it's a mistake," she added, handing the bill back to Buffy and   
studiously avoiding her eyes.  
  
"Don't _even_ try to pull that on me, Dawn Elizabeth Summers."  
Buffy could feel her previously simmering temper start to boil  
to the surface. "I already called the number. And talked to the  
very nice mother of the guy you've been yakking with non-stop   
since just after New Year's." Dawn's face flushed with guilt,   
and that was all it took for Buffy's temper to snap. "What were   
you *thinking*? You know we can't afford a phone bill like this!"  
  
"I'm sorry---"   
  
"Sorry? It's two hundred and twelve dollars!"  
  
Willow leaned forward and patted Dawn on the arm, sending  
the Slayer a warning look. "Buffy? About the not-yelling?   
You're getting close to the edge, there."  
  
She cut off what she'd been about to say, and gulped on an indrawn  
breath. "...'kay. Deep breaths. Right...." Another two breaths, and   
when she could trust herself to speak again, her voice was level.  
"Dawn. It's two hundred and twelve dollars. We *can't* afford this.  
You know that. You're not a little kid."  
  
"I'll pay you back, honest I will." Dawn's face was a study in real   
guilt, which at least addressed whether she'd been dumb or selfish:  
just dumb. Which didn't soothe Buffy as much as it probably should  
have. "I just forgot. I didn't think we were talking that much."  
  
"How could you not know?" It was mind-boggling how Dawn could  
live in her own little world like she did, it really was. "I can't   
believe---" Buffy caught Willow's eyes, and the raised-eyebrow  
wincing on her friend's face forced her to take another mental step  
back. "Deep breathing. Deep, deep breathing...." She would *not* lose  
it. She *would* listen to what Dawn was saying. *Then* she'd  
ground her forever.  
  
"We just had a lot to talk about. And some of it was an emergency, Clark had  
this really big problem a week or so ago, with his dad, and this guy, and he  
really needed to vent to someone," Dawn explained, her eyes fixed on  
Buffy's with brimming sincerity. It almost would have been enough  
to calm her down, if Buffy hadn't had a second reason to be  
absolutely ballistic about Dawn's behavior. "But it's all okay now, and I'll be  
careful, and we won't do this again. I'm sorry if the bill made you  
stressed." She frowned at her pacing sister. "Well, more stressed."  
  
Buffy drew a deep, deep breath, and nodded thoughtfully as she  
came to a stop in front of her sister. "You know, that would all be   
reassuring and extremely grown-up of you, if I hadn't asked Mrs. Kent  
how you knew Clark."  
  
She could actually *feel* a vein in her head start to throb as Dawn's eyes  
widened, a tiny sound escaping her as her entire body instinctively  
froze. "Oh...."  
  
Buffy smiled at her with no humor at all, her tone the cheerily calm one  
which she usually addressed vampires in before she staked them.  
"At first I was all worried that maybe you'd met this boy in a chatroom,  
no matter *how* many times we've told you about Moloch and Malcolm  
and the other ax-murderers that hang out on the 'Net---"  
  
"That is *such* a myth, most of the people on-line are really cool---"  
Dawn broke in desperately, trying to sound outraged.  
  
Fake outrage lost out to *real* outrage every time, though.   
"---but then, she told me that Clark admitted it hadn't been  
on-line. So I knew that wasn't it."  
  
"Uhhh...." The little wheels in her sister's brain weren't spinning as  
fast as Dawn wanted them to, that was for sure.  
  
"And then she said that her son hasn't ever been to California. In fact,  
he's barely been out of Kansas. Don't you think that's interesting?"   
Buffy waited a second, giving Dawn an inquiring look, to which her  
sister responded with weakly raised eyebrows. "Considering  
that as far as I know, you haven't been out of California in  
about six years. 'As far as I know' being the important part."  
  
"Ummm.... well, you see... it's like... umm...." Dawn looked to   
Willow for support, or maybe a reprieve, then to a  
not-unsympathetic Anya, then sent a pleading glance back to her sister.  
  
Buffy was not inclined to help her out. "It's like what, Dawn?  
Tell me what it's like." She took a step forward into Dawn's personal  
space, her voice rising. "Tell me what's going on with you.  
Tell me where you were when you met this boy that you've   
been spending hours and hours with talking on the phone!"  
  
Willow stood up and put a hand on her arm, pulling Buffy  
away from her flinching sister. "Spanish Inquisition, Buffy. And   
try to breathe, okay?"  
  
"... It isn't... you don't...." An arms' length away and Dawn  
regained her attitude, glaring at Buffy again with a toss of   
her head. "I *knew* you were going to be like this, that's why---"  
  
"Like what? Scared? Wigged? Furious? Worried out of my mind  
that you've done something dangerous and stupid and didn't   
tell me about it?" Buffy demanded, leaning forward before Will  
tugged her back a step again. "Right, I know, Willow. Breathing."   
She was going to lose her mind if Dawn didn't *tell* her  
something soon, she knew it. "Deep breathing." How could her   
sister just stand there and glare at her like that? Didn't Dawn  
*get* it?   
  
Determined to be the adult, Buffy turned away and closed   
her eyes."Holding my breath until I'm not mad, watch me...."  
  
Her eyes were still clenched tightly shut ten seconds later when  
the door to the shop opened and the bell rang.   
  
"Good after--- oh. What do you want?" Anya sounded annoyed, and  
Buffy's eyes popped open.  
  
Oh, God. It *would* be him. Wonderful. Could this get any worse?  
  
"Lovely to see you too, ducks." Spike wasn't sporting his   
sunny-day blanket, so she didn't even have the fun of watching  
him look stupid when he crawled out from under it. His eyes   
narrowed when he saw her, then he raised his eyebrows as he   
stalked forward. "Never mind me. Just stopping off to pick up  
the extra blood I left here, since we've got a rainy day to  
be out in...." He paused directly in front of her, a smile   
flirting around the edges of his mouth. Buffy fought back the  
urge to smack him on general principles. "Why is the Slayer  
standing here holding her breath and crossing her eyes like  
a Vigala demon?"  
  
Willow spoke up and dragged Dawn another step out of the line of fire.  
"Uh, we're kind of in the middle of a crisis. Maybe you should go."  
  
"Hey, Spike," Dawn added, giving him a little wave when Buffy   
glowered at her.  
  
"Lo, 'bit. Crisis?" Spike asked, tilting his head to watch her like   
she was a sideshow attraction. Too mad to think of a comeback for  
the Vigala crack, and half-afraid of what she'd do if she spoke, Buffy  
settled for another death-glare.  
  
"I'm sort of... in a lot of trouble," Dawn muttered.  
  
"What'd she find out about?"  
  
Okay, that was it. Buffy half-choked as she took in a deep  
breath of air. "What do you mean, what did she find out about? There's  
more than one thing to find out about?" she demanded, scowling  
from an amused Spike to a trying-to-disappear-into-the-floor Dawn.  
"And why do you know stuff about Dawn that I need to find out about,  
when I don't?"  
  
It was totally unreasonable, the way he stayed so calm in the face  
of Slayer wrath. See what happens when you sleep with the enemy,  
Buffy? she thought irritably. They lose all terror of you. Damnit.  
  
"Didn't say that. Just askin'. I don't know anything you have to know  
about," Spike responded. Buffy couldn't tell if he was protesting too  
much or not, so she turned back to the source of the commotion with  
another glare.  
  
"Says you.... Fine. Dawn, I want an answer."  
  
"Hmm?" Dawn had been watching her and Spike with an odd look on  
her face, and now she was trying for innocent. "I lost   
track of the question."  
  
"You want to play it like that? Okay." Buffy put her hands on  
her hips and paced forward. "Where were you when you  
met your good friend Clark? When did you meet him? And why  
didn't you tell me?"  
  
Dawn stuck out her chin and almost pouted at her. "I didn't   
tell you because you were practically having a nervous   
breakdown, okay? Ever since you came back, you've been   
like this. I knew you'd get upset, I knew you'd get mad and  
blame yourself---"  
  
"Right now, I'm leaning towards blaming you. I just don't know what I'm  
blaming you for." She was *not* breaking down. She'd just   
been a little... detached, lately.  
  
Her sister ignored the interruption, her rant gaining speed.   
"---and it all worked out, I didn't get hurt, you didn't even  
*notice*, and it wasn't anything about you, okay? I just----"  
For the first time, Dawn showed some guilt, and her voice  
kind of trailed off as she shrugged. "I had to go away, for a   
little while...."  
  
"You ran away." She'd known that. She *had*. But faced with the  
bare statement, it was like a punch in the gut. "Oh. Ohhh. Kay.  
Owww... So this is a heart attack."  
  
Dawn took a couple steps forward, her arms waving as   
the guilty babbling sped up again. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't mean to   
hurt you or scare you so I didn't want to tell you after I came  
back and I know it was stupid---"  
  
"Try suicidal! Try crazy!" Didn't *mean* to scare her?  
What would Dawn have done if she'd *really* wanted to freak   
her out? "Try *dangerous*, Dawn, you have no idea what  
could've happened to you out there---"   
  
Her sister flushed, her voice going for its bratty worst. "Oh,   
like it's SO much more dangerous than all the stuff that's   
happened to me right here in Sunnydale!"  
  
She really wasn't getting it, was she? Buffy shook her head, aghast  
and disbelieving. "At least when you're here I can protect you!   
You have people who love you and want to look out for you, how  
could you run away from us---"  
  
"The same way you could, three years ago!" Dawn's face went  
white in response to whatever Buffy's expression was; she   
had no idea what was showing on her face. Out of the  
corner of her eye she saw Willow straighten in alarm, and Spike  
go even more still than before.   
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Buffy, don't look at me like that.  
I didn't meant that. It wasn't---" Dawn's shoulders dropped,  
and her eyes were begging her to understand,  
but Buffy was too overwhelmed with guilt and shame  
to respond to it. "It wasn't about you. Or anybody here. I just---  
it was Christmas, and everything was wrong, and--- I was...  
I missed Mom."  
  
"You....oh.... " She really *was* screwing up, wasn't she? They'd   
barely talked about Mom before Christmas. Putting up her mom's  
ornaments, and sadly avoiding looking at the smaller pile   
of packages under the tree, Buffy'd had no idea what to say.  
So she'd stayed silent; they'd hesitantly, in fits and starts,  
talked about how they missed her over New Year's. But it   
had taken her forever to work up to it, while Dawn was hurting  
and wanting to talk. Great. Just... great.  
  
"I missed Mom and I hated being here, and I wanted to be   
somewhere else, okay? I ditched the campout with Lisa and   
Janice and I got on a bus. I wanted to go to New York.   
Or Atlantic City. Somewhere new. Only it wasn't as  
much fun as I thought it would be. So I came home. And that's  
all." Dawn folded her arms, her eyes fixed on her shoes, and   
Buffy stared at her helplessly, torn by the urge to hug her hard  
or scream in outrage that she'd been so reckless. Did she  
just completely miss the *point* of the Lost Summer of '98?   
Had Dawn actually thought Buffy thought that was a *good* plan?  
  
Willow's sigh distracted her long enough to start the deep  
breathing again and refrain from sister-a-cide. "Oh, Dawnie."  
  
Dawn glanced up at her then ducked her head again after  
a quick sideways look at Spike. "I couldn't have told you either,   
Willow. I didn't want to make things worse for you. You were  
having such a rough time---"  
  
Buffy frowned, a twinge of memory from her own running-away  
sparking in her admittedly overtaxed brain. "Wait a second.   
How did you get enough money for a ticket?"  
  
"Ummm...." Dawn-in-the-headlights. She was getting way   
sick of that look.  
  
"She stole the money out of the shop's cash register."  
  
"Anya!" Dawn whirled and stamped her foot in anger.  
  
"You *knew* about this? And you didn't tell me!?" Buffy demanded,  
feeling the floor get cut out from under her again. *More* stuff  
she didn't pick up on.... Had she and Dawn even been living   
in the same house, these last few months?  
  
"I didn't steal it, exactly---"   
  
"As I told you before, Dawn, borrowing includes prior permission  
and a fixed rate of interest," Anya lectured her sister matter-of-factly.  
"You didn't obtain either before you raided the register." She shrugged  
and turned to Buffy with a long-suffering look that made the Slayer  
want to choke someone, although she had no idea who. Choking  
Anya would only have Willow and Spike dragging her off in about  
a second; and it wasn't Anya's fault. No. She knew whose fault it was.  
  
"Dawn did give me back the money. And she only has one more   
week before she works off the balance of the damages for mental   
anguish and lost revenue. She's really become most helpful   
here at the shop."  
  
"That's... that's why you've been here every weekend. I should have  
*realized*." Dawn liked Anya well enough, but not *that* much. The   
Xander Crush wasn't so far in the past that Dawn would spend  
all of her free time with someone who often annoyed her and who  
was currently planning on marrying him, with all the excruciating  
detail Anya was putting into it. "And I can't believe you, Anya!   
How could you keep this to yourself?"   
  
Anya rolled her eyes, her tone pitying. "Because I agreed with   
Dawn and Spike. You were in no condition to handle additional   
ugly shocks."  
  
What the... "Spike!?"  
  
"Damn. Had to say it, didn't you?" he snapped at Anya, directing a   
hunted look at Buffy before moving out of punching range while she  
spluttered.  
  
"Why should Dawn and I be the only ones in trouble?" Anya asked  
reasonably. "You were just as involved. And more people to blame  
gives the Slayer less anger to vent on *me*."  
  
Somewhere in there, she'd found an extra set of vocal   
cords. "SPIKE!?"  
  
"Don't be mad at him, Buffy! He went and brought me back,   
I begged him not to tell---" Dawn's protests were *not*   
inspiring mercy.   
  
"You rat *bastard*. I can't---" Spike's careful backing away  
wasn't helping her self-control either. All this time, he'd known,  
while they were--- and he hadn't even *hinted* that Dawn was   
having problems--- "You *creep*, you knew she'd left, and you  
didn't tell me, you knew something was wrong and you didn't  
let me know---"  
  
"Hey! I was looking out for you! For both of you." Righteousness  
always looked good on him, but she never, ever made the   
mistake of buying into it. "The 'bit was sorry, she learned her  
lesson, promised not to do it again... and you were trying to  
get a job and help the Witch through mystical de-tox. Plus, you  
were still all depressed with the Watcher being gone, and...."  
More appealing looks from the pest of her life; and no matter  
what kind of justifications he served up, her fingers still itched  
to hit him. ".... well, it didn't seem like you had to know,  
all right?"  
  
"That doesn't matter, she could have been hurt, she could have been  
*killed*---"  
  
"No, she couldn't! I followed her all the way to Denver---"  
  
"Denver?! Oh my god. *Denver*." She'd guessed that, she *had*, but  
to hear it out loud was something else entirely. "That's,   
like, *days* away from here."  
  
Spike was still 'explaining' over her mental break. "---all   
the way to Denver, she wasn't out of my sight once I caught up with  
her, and then I drove her back right quick. She's not stupid, you know. No  
close calls, no scares; she knows how to look out for herself. So stop  
thinking of what might'a happened. She's fine. She's safe."  
  
Buffy gaped at him, appalled. "You just don't get it, do you?   
How can I trust you?" At his wounded glare, she turned back to  
Dawn. "*Either* of you. You met Clark in Denver, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah," Dawn bit her lower lip and squirmed a little. "He was  
running away too. His friend Lex found him right at the same  
time Spike found me."  
  
"God, Dawn, I don't believe you." There was just no limit to the  
mess, was there? Was this how her mom had felt, when she'd  
finally told her about the Slayer deal? Wow, she hoped not. But  
it was just *so* likely... "Hanging out with some boy you don't   
know in a strange city--- what if he'd been dangerous? What if   
he'd been some kind of---"  
  
"He wasn't, okay?" Her sister snorted and rolled her eyes, and Buffy  
choked back a strangled shriek of frustration. "Jeez, you act like  
I'm five and I wouldn't know a pervert if I met one. I've met enough   
evil people to tell, you know. He *saved* me from one, actually---"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"He did *what*?" So much for Spike's 'she can handle herself;' he  
sounded as shocked as she felt.  
  
"... uh, guess I didn't mention that to you before, hunh?" Dawn's   
wince of guilt was so much more about getting caught out than about  
everything else she'd done that Buffy glanced at Willow, just to make  
sure she'd heard that right. Her best friend grimaced in sympathy,  
and Buffy threw her hands up in exasperation at Dawn's total lack  
of comprehension of the danger she'd been risking.  
  
Spike was taking over scolding duties for the second where she  
did a reality check. "You damn bloody well did not. That kid stood up  
for you?... He's got more balls than I would've thought."  
  
Dawn shrugged in amusement. "Well, it wasn't a real pervert. Just a   
creep who tried to pick me up---"  
  
"I so don't want to hear this, do I? More material for my   
nightmares. Like I don't have enough," Buffy muttered under her breath.  
  
"---but it was okay, because Clark stepped in, even though I didn't need his  
help, really, and the security guard hauled the guy off. And that's how we  
made friends," Dawn added eagerly while Buffy just *stared* at her.   
It was all okay? It was fine because someone saved her?  
Well, maybe if you were Dawn, it was. Never mind what *could* have  
happened. "And he's completely cool and nice and sweet, and he's totally  
helped me pass Math, I'd *so* be getting a D now if it weren't for him---"  
Maybe the look Buffy was giving her was finally registering with   
her, because she almost stuttered to a halt, then straightened and  
defiantly added, "---and he kind of talked me into coming home, too.   
So you shouldn't be mad at him either."  
  
"I can be as mad at him as I want." Buffy was proud of herself  
that she wasn't yelling. There would be no point; she'd gone so  
far past furious that it was a dot receding in the distance. As far  
away as Denver, maybe. "I can be mad enough to tell you that  
you're never allowed to talk to him again---"  
  
"No! You can't! That's *completely* unfair!" Dawn's fists   
clenched and she surged forward, clearly wanting to hit Buffy.  
  
And just like that, she was screaming, all her fear and  
anger coming out in an attempt to get through to Dawn. "---or at  
least for a year! Or two! Or a long long time! You've been lying  
to me, you ran away, you ran up a monster phone bill---"  
  
"Breathing, Buffy. Come on, take a break and try it. Just   
for a minute."  
  
"The witch is right. You're gonna hurt yourself in a second,"  
Spike said, stepping between her and Dawn.   
  
Buffy barely noticed, her attention focused on her pale and shaking  
sister. "---and right now I can't think of what kind of punishment will  
convince you to behave! If Social Services found out, they could take  
you away, do you *realize* that? How am I supposed to handle this?  
I can't even count all of the lies and the secrets you've been keeping,   
Dawn, I don't know what to say to you, I just --- do you even understand  
why I'm angry? Do you even care?" she asked, breathing hard.  
  
"I care. I care...." Dawn's face crumpled, screwing up like it had when she  
was an injured three-year-old. "But you can't, you can't, I won't---"  
  
"Oh, God. Don't. Don't cry, Dawn. Please. I can't take it...." This was  
her fault. She'd let her sister down, and she'd had to run away, and  
now she'd freaked out because Buffy was shrieking at her like  
a crazy person. A gasp escaped her and Buffy realized she was   
crying too, hot tears of frustration dripping into her mouth. "I'm sorry.   
I didn't mean to yell at you. I wanted to be calm. You're just scaring me  
so much---" She reached out for Dawn, wanting to touch her, comfort  
her, hold her in place----  
  
And Dawn slapped her hand away, her voice cracking and then  
rising with hurt fury. "If you tell me to never call Clark again, I'll never   
speak to you! You can't make me not talk to him! I'll get a calling card  
and my own cell phone and I just won't tell you that I'm talking to him!   
He's my best friend and it's not his fault and I *hate* you  
for acting like I did something *so wrong* like you've never   
done anything *even worse*---"  
  
Oh. Oh, no, this wasn't what she'd meant at all--- "Dawn. Dawnie---"  
  
"Niblet---" Spike was reaching out to her too, trying to catch her sweater,  
but she twisted and stumbled away from them both, glaring at them.  
  
"No! Don't *touch* me! You never listen to me, you never notice me except  
when I do something wrong and I'm sick of it, I'm sick of all of it, and I'm  
sick of *you*!" she shrieked, pointing at Buffy, who stopped, frozen and  
heartsick. "So just leave me alone!" She rushed for the door, flinging it open  
and plunging through it, leaving the door to slam and jangle behind her.  
  
A long moment of silence, then Buffy slowly collapsed into a chair by  
the table, looking at a sad-eyed Willow as she wiped the tears from her  
face. "Well. That went... spectacularly badly. So much for deep breathing."  
  
Willow's smile was more of a wince, her shrug rueful and pained.   
"Give her time to calm down, Buffy. She'll get over it, really she  
will. She doesn't hate you. She's just... a little upset."  
  
"No, she's just sick of the sight of me."  
  
Spike's voice was flat when he spoke, and he was still watching  
the door that Dawn had just fled through "She didn't mean it.   
The 'bit loves you. She'll be ready to make up tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, right. This is Grudge Girl we're talking about." Dawn was still mad  
about Buffy getting to be Little Red Riding Hood the year *she'd* wanted go  
in the red cape. She wasn't going to get over this any time soon. Buffy  
licked the tears from her lips, and scowled at Spike, her voice sharpening.  
"And don't think I'm forgetting to be pissed off at you, mister.  
You *knew* she took off before Christmas. And you didn't tell   
me. You've got just as much to answer for."  
  
He turned to her in surprise, his expression open, for once.  
"Buffy---"   
  
And she *so* wasn't up for so-called honesty and sharing, not  
after *that* little confrontation. "I really think you should go,  
Spike. I'm not in the mood to be lied to any more."  
  
His face hardened and he stepped away, and Buffy closed her eyes  
at the sight, trying to hang onto her control. Leaning on him or looking  
for a hug was *out* of the question, no matter what she thought   
she wanted. "Fine, then. Think I'll follow your sis. Make sure   
she's not getting on any buses for Mexico after that little   
scene you handled so *very* well."  
  
The only reason the door didn't slam behind Spike was he made  
sure to pull it banging shut after him.  
  
Buffy put her head down on the table, fighting the urge to cry. "Great.   
Someone else who hates me. I'm two for two."  
  
"I'm not storming out of here. It's my shop. And I didn't do anything  
wrong."  
  
She raised her head just far enough to glare at Anya. "You   
didn't *tell* me!"  
  
"We explained that. You were having a mental breakdown---"  
  
"I wasn't!" She *wasn't*. She'd been a little--- out of it, but she'd been  
dealing. Well, trying to deal, since Giles left, and--- okay, they didn't  
know about the--- thing, whatever it was, that she had with  
Spike, so maybe it looked worse than it actually was----  
  
"---and you still are," Anya continued serenely. "Telling you   
would have made you worried and upset with Dawn, and we didn't  
want to ruin Christmas. She agreed to pay back the money she  
stole, and Spike kept her under house arrest for a month.  
There really wasn't any reason for you to know anything more."  
  
Buffy traded an exasperated look with Willow, then pounded the table in   
lieu of anything else. "I should've known because I'm her *sister*. I'm   
responsible for her. I'm supposed to be the one that helps her when   
she has problems, not you guys!" What was the point of being the legal  
adult, if everyone took the decisions out of her hands? This was why  
Giles had left, so she could *do* this stuff.  
  
Anya shrugged. "Yes, but you couldn't. Not without freaking out, anyway.   
As the fight you just had proves. So we did. Why is that so wrong?"  
  
When you put it like that, she didn't have an answer. Except that if  
she'd been prepared, and if Dawn had confessed, she was *sure* she  
could've done better. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. "...I don't know...   
I just... Will?"  
  
"Yeah?" The soft sympathy in her best friend's voice made   
her close her eyes again, fighting for calm.  
  
"Is this payback? Is this happening because of all the grief  
I gave my mom?"  
  
"No! It isn't! Don't ever think that, Buffy." Willow's arms went around her in a  
hug, and Buffy choked back a sob, remembering how mad Willow had  
been when she'd come back. And she'd deserved that; she'd run out  
on everyone. But she'd never have dreamed that she would've reacted  
that way to Dawn doing the same thing.   
  
Will was stroking her hair. "Dawn's just going through a bad time.  
It isn't because of anything you did. You heard what she said,   
she just--- wanted to be somewhere else."  
  
"And wow, do I understand that." She opened her eyes and sniffed,  
looking up at Willow wearily. "I can't believe I screwed this up so bad.  
There's got to be a way to fix this. Right?"  
  
"Yeah. Just--- maybe tomorrow," Willow suggested hesitantly.  
"When she's calmer. And you're calmer. And, maybe you shouldn't  
say stuff like never and forever next time when you talk about   
her punishments."  
  
"Bad tactical error. Uberstupid. Yeah.... I wish...." Buffy  
fell silent and rubbed her face, shaking her head.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I wish... Oh, God, Willow. I wish my mom were here. I really, really  
wish she were here."   
  
"I know...." And Wills kept patting her as Buffy cried herself out,   
wondering how she could've done better and how anyone who  
wasn't a Slayer and an idiot would've handled Dawn.  
  
*****  
  
And more on its way....  
  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
kikimariposa@prodigy.net 


	4. Q & A from Cali to Kansas

Much shorter than the last bit.   
  
Lines of Communication (4/6)  
by C. L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
~*riiiiiiiing*~  
~*riiiiiiiing*~  
  
"Wait wait wait please don't hang up please don't be  
Social Services wait wait---"  
  
* thud *  
  
~*riiiiiiiing*~  
  
** CRASH ! **  
  
"Ow...."  
  
~*riiiiii---*~  
  
"Gotcha!... * huff * ... Summers' residence. Buffy   
speaking. * puff*"  
  
"Miss Summers? This is Martha Kent... Are you all  
right? You sound winded."  
  
"Oh. Hi. Yeah. I just walked in the door. From work.  
Had to... * hufffff * Rush for the phone. Sorry. I'm a  
little out of breath. Hard day. At work... So. How can  
I help you?"  
  
"It can wait until you catch your breath. Take your  
time. This isn't urgent."  
  
"* siiiiigh * ... That's really nice of you. Thanks....  
All better. Okay. Is there some new awful thing that  
Dawn's done now?"  
  
"Nothing for me to be contacting you about."  
  
"Good to know."  
  
"The reason why I called was to let you know we've  
decided to ground Clark from making long-distance  
phone calls to your sister for a while. I don't know  
if you were planning on suspending her phone  
privileges, or for how long---"  
  
"The last time I talked to her, the word 'forever'  
came up. I was thinking of cutting that back to six  
months or so, though. Or maybe three. Three  
might be good."  
  
"Uh, that's... certainly up to you. But I thought you  
should be aware that Clark's punishment was going to  
be for two weeks, so you'd know that he  
wouldn't be running up our phone bill, or asking Dawn  
to run up yours any time in the immediate future."  
  
"Two weeks? Really? That's all?"  
  
"Well, Clark understands why we're less than thrilled  
with his recent phone abuse, and he's agreed to pay us  
back out of his allowance. A time-out will give him a   
break and a chance to save up enough to make a  
first payment. And it wasn't as if he'd done this  
before; and he seems really attached to your sister.  
Two weeks seemed fair to us."  
  
"Uh-hunh."  
  
"Of course, if you'd prefer that he and Dawn stick to  
e-mail or internet chat rooms, I can completely  
understand why. This really is an expensive  
habit, and if you don't want to encourage it---"  
  
"No, I didn't mean --- I wasn't trying to criticize,  
at all. Seriously. I just... I hadn't really thought  
that far ahead, I guess. This is all still kinda new  
to me. Being the punisher, instead of the punished."  
  
"Oh, I see."  
  
"I mean, when my mom used to ground me, I could never  
figure out what she was basing the time limits on, but  
I know it always seemed really long. And  
that would be a good thing. Right? Because then Dawn  
would take it seriously. She wouldn't do it again,  
because she wouldn't want to be grounded again. That  
makes sense. Doesn't it?"  
  
"Well...."  
  
"Or maybe not. Maybe that'll just make her so mad that  
she ignores it. And ignores me. If Dawn does that,  
then she'll ignore everything else I say, and  
do something *really* reckless just to prove she can,  
and... no, no, that won't work. That would be--- bad.  
Much badness. But she can't just not be punished. I  
think...."  
  
"Miss Summers, if you don't mind my asking---"  
  
"Call me Buffy. *Please*. When you say Miss Summers  
I start looking for the Social Services people.  
And wondering if they're hiding under the dining room  
table. Or in the laundry room."  
  
"Ah... Okay. Then I'm Martha."  
  
"Not that they would. Hide here. Because that would be  
illegal, and I can't believe I can't stop talking...."  
  
"* chuckle * Miss--- Buffy, it's all right.  
You've had a long day, you're tired, and I know that  
this can't be easy on you.... Which brings me  
back to my question, actually. Clark didn't mention  
where your parents are, exactly...?"  
  
".... My mom died almost a year ago. Brain cancer.  
An aneuryism from complications after surgery."  
  
"I'm very sorry."  
  
"Thanks...."  
  
"And your father?"  
  
"He's in Spain."  
  
"What does he do there?"  
  
"His secretary."  
  
"*Oh.*"  
  
"Ohmigod. I've been hanging out with Spike *way*  
too long. I didn't mean--- could you forget I just  
said that?"  
  
"It's okay, Buffy."  
  
"It really isn't. My mom would've freaked, if she'd   
ever heard me talk about him like that."  
  
"I understand. Truly. So it's just you and Dawn?  
You two are on your own?"  
  
"Yeah.... I mean, I have friends, and they're pretty  
much the same as family, they've been great....  
And there's Spike. But he's not as helpful. At all.  
We're doing okay. I just... I was a little---   
out of it--- for a while, and it's hard to figure  
out what to do now... It's been rough on Dawn.  
I mean, what fifteen-year-old wants to listen to  
their twenty-one-year-old sister tell them what to do?"  
  
"None of them, I would imagine."  
  
"See? Exactly. So.... What was the question?"  
  
"You answered it."  
  
"Oh. Right. My parents... Um, do you mind if I ask you  
a question?"  
  
"Go ahead, I don't mind."  
  
"How long did you penalize Clark for running away?"  
  
"Buffy--- why do you ask?"  
  
"See, I have to come down on her for that, too, which  
makes this harder. Dawn says she's already  
been punished, because a couple of our friends knew  
about the running away and they kind of  
put her under house arrest for a while. But I don't  
know if that counts if I didn't know about it."  
  
"This might just be my opinion--- and I could   
definitely be wrong. But I'd say that if she's already   
been grounded for running away, anything else is   
overkill. No matter who imparted the punishment. If Dawn  
respected them, she's probably learned as much as she  
could from it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Although, you should probably talk about why she left.  
And there usually should be penalties for lying; we're   
just lucky Clark isn't very good at it, so it doesn't   
come up often. The hardest part was getting him to tell  
us why he left in the first place."  
  
"...Oh."  
  
"Buffy? Are you still there?"  
  
"Uh-hunh. Still here. I..."  
  
"Honey, what's wrong?"  
  
"What isn't? ...Never mind. You know what?  
You've been super-cool, listening to me, but, I  
should probably go---"  
  
"Did I say something that upset you?"  
  
"It isn't you. Really. It's me. And Dawn. And there's  
nothing you can do about me, or I can do about me,  
or anyone can do about Dawn, so, I don't want to  
bore you with it."  
  
"Why don't you let me give it a try anyway?"  
  
"I... it's just... I'm screwing this up. You're good at  
this mom stuff, and that's because you're a mom. I'm  
not a mom. I have to take care of Dawn, it's *my* job,   
and Social Services keeps *looking* at me funny, and  
you know why? Because they know I can't do it!"  
  
"I'm sure that's not true."  
  
"No, it is! And they're *right* to give me that look!  
I'm a bad parent! I don't know what Dawn's doing  
or who she's doing it with, and it's like me with my  
mom all over again, and I never thought this  
would happen, because I thought that was just me  
being--- different, and.... and.... I'm sorry. I... "  
  
"You don't have anything to apologize to me for. I don't know  
a parent of a teenager who *hasn't* felt like that at  
some point."  
  
"But it's *all the time*. I mean, if I was doing this  
right, Dawn wouldn't have run away. Would she? I mean,  
I ran away because I was lying to my mom and she didn't know  
until it was way too late to explain all this other stuff, so  
that wasn't her fault.... But Dawn got so upset and angry  
with things here she had to bail, and I still don't know   
all the reasons why, and then when she got back, she   
didn't feel like she could tell me. I was terminally clueless.  
I didn't even-- I missed *everything*. I *suck* at this."  
  
"I don't think you can be doing that badly, Buffy."  
  
"How can you tell? Seriously. How--- how do you know  
when you're doing *anything* right?"  
  
"She came back, didn't she?"  
  
"Yeah...."  
  
"After less than a week away. She came home without  
anyone making her come home. Because believe me, once   
they're teenagers, anything they do is up to them, no   
matter *what* you threaten them with... and she decided  
she wanted to be back with you. So you must be doing   
something right."  
  
"....."  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"...mmph. * sniffle * ...Thanks."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"The vote of confidence... Sorry I'm such a spaz...."  
  
"No problem. Really. I was equally upset right after   
I found out Clark had taken off."  
  
"...* sigh * Speaking of Clark.... I heard he talked  
Dawn into wanting to come home. Could you thank him  
for that?"  
  
"From what he told me, it was a mutual talking-into.  
I don't think either of them were really having a good  
time out there."  
  
"Yeah, well, according to Dawn, he also got some  
creep to stop bothering her, so I still owe him one.  
Maybe you should just tell him I appreciate it?"  
  
"Actually--- why don't you tell him yourself?"  
  
"Wow, that would be great. Except I'm sure  
he doesn't want to talk to Dawn's crazy older  
sister---"  
  
"....Hello?"  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi. Is this Buffy?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Clark, right? Hunh. Your mom's sneaky."  
  
"Yeah, she is. I never get anything by her, so don't  
feel too bad she pulled a fast one on you."  
  
"I'll try not to. Even though I should've seen it  
coming... So. I wanted to thank you for looking out  
for Dawn while you guys were in Denver."  
  
"Looking out for her?"  
  
"At the bus station? The creep who tried to pick her up?"  
  
"Oh, that guy. That was... really minor. Dawn was  
handling it fine by herself. I think I just helped distract  
him. He was kind of out of it, and Dawn was ready  
to punch him if he got any closer. And then he tripped.  
So we didn't have to do anything to him."  
  
"Oh. He tripped, huh?"  
  
"Uh-hunh. He knocked himself out. On the floor. It   
was waxed, and real slippery---"  
  
"Okay. If you say so... But thank you for standing up for her."  
  
"Sure. Anybody would've done it. How's Dawn?"  
  
"She's... a little upset with me right now. I kind of   
yelled a lot when I got the phone bill."  
  
"I'm really, really sorry. We just weren't paying   
attention. It's mostly my fault, I started it, I   
called her first---"  
  
"That's not the point. Dawn *knows* better. And maybe  
you guys didn't mean to be careless, but.... I'm more   
upset that she didn't tell me about running away in   
December."  
  
"Oh. That. Yeah.... You know, she wasn't really running  
away, so much, as just kind of, ummm... taking a break."  
  
"A break."  
  
"Yeah, she was really bummed about Christmas, and, you  
know... missing your mom---"  
  
"She mentioned that."  
  
"And, there were some other things...."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Stuff. Other... stuff."  
  
"You're not gonna tell me."  
  
"I *can't*. Dawn's my friend. It's private."  
  
"Too private to tell me. But she told you. Great."  
  
"Umm... Well, see, I told Dawn a lot of stuff first.   
Personal information that-- I don't just tell anybody.   
But Dawn got it out of me. So, she told me some   
things, kind of to trade off.... Actually, you already  
know everything she told me."  
  
"How do you figure that?"  
  
"It was all to do with her, mostly--- it wasn't about   
anyone else. She even said you knew all of it. It's   
just--- I don't know if she wants you to know she told  
me. So I can't tell you what she said. Do you know what  
I mean?"  
  
"Just barely, at this point."  
  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you."  
  
"It's okay; I've had conversations like this with Dawn.  
Privacy and secrets and personal space, right?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So what were you guys talking about for so long, anyway?  
Aside from math and your girlfriend?"  
  
"I don't have a girlfriend. And lots of different things."  
  
"You don't? I thought she was giving you girlfriend advice.  
She must be falling down on the job."  
  
"No, see, there is a girl, but she's not... We're not---  
We're just friends. She has a boyfriend."  
  
"Ohhh. I get it. And the other things you talked about?   
Or was it all about this girl?"  
  
"No, of course not. Um... Books. We like the same books.  
TV. X-Files versus Enterprise. Dawn really likes the   
X-Files, even if it is kind of lame, but it used to be   
cool... I like Enterprise better. Pizza. Video games. We   
play Doom online sometimes."  
  
"What else?"  
  
"Ummmm... Math, yeah, she gets so bored during Algebra,  
so I kind of go over it with her... my friends. Her friends.  
What we're gonna do when we grow up. Visiting Europe.  
Hiking in Australia. There's this one site, on the Internet?  
You can take a virtual tour of Argentina there.... Who we  
want to win in the Olympics. Anya and the Magic Box.  
Our farm. The horses, Dawn likes to hear about them...  
stuff. Personal stuff. Stuff I don't tell other people...."  
  
"Whoa. Okay, I get the idea. There's a lot of --- stuff."  
  
"Uh-hunh."  
  
"I was kind of worried that it was some weird boy-girl stuff---"  
  
"What? Oh! No way! I don't--- Dawn isn't--- we're *friends*.  
Only friends. *Good* friends. Not boyfriend-girlfriend friends.  
Dawn thinks I'm a dork."  
  
"That's not very nice of her. I should have a talk---"  
  
"It's okay. I think she's crazy. In a good way, but...."  
  
"I get the picture. Not boyfriends or girlfriends. Too weird."  
  
"Uh-hunh."  
  
"And the older sister breathes a sigh of relief."  
  
"Sorry if we freaked you out that way."  
  
"No, no. Those are my issues. My fault. *Totally*. Don't  
stress about it."  
  
"Sure... Buffy? Can I talk to Dawn? And tell her I'm   
grounded and I'm sorry I kind of got her busted?"  
  
"You know what Clark? You could, if she were here. We  
had a fight, though. So Dawn's off being mad at me somewhere."  
  
"Maybe she's with Spike."  
  
"Hunh? I mean, excuse me?"  
  
"Well, I just... I met him, when he came to Denver to  
pick her up---"  
  
"Ah, yes. The beginning of the great conspiracy."  
  
"---and he seemed really worried about her, and like   
he didn't want her to be in trouble---"  
  
"Of course not. Spike wouldn't want Dawn in trouble, she   
always takes his side."  
  
"---and I know Dawn was glad to see him, because she  
was just getting ready to call you and tell you she was  
going home---  
  
"Clark, are you trying to talk me out of being mad at   
Spike as well as Dawn?"  
  
"...Um, if I say yes, will you be more or less mad?"  
  
"With you? Neither. You're just trying to be a good friend.  
With Dawn and Spike? Darnit. Now you've made me less mad at  
them. I should be more mad at you to compensate,  
but the grudge is just kind of falling apart. I'm kind   
of annoyed about that."  
  
"Gosh. Too bad."  
  
"You're entirely too cheerful about it. I suspect you of trying to be  
very devious, and of actually being far too sweet to be  
friends with my sister. Stop gloating, she's definitely  
a horrible influence on you. And put your mother back  
on the phone, okay?"  
  
"Okay. Can Dawn call me, when she gets back in? So I can  
explain?"  
  
"Yes, all right, fine. It might be tomorrow, though.   
But I'll let her call you *one* time before you're both  
on phone probation."  
  
"Cool. Thanks, Buffy."  
  
"Uh-hunh. Good-bye, Clark."  
  
"Bye!"  
  
".... Did you two say everything you needed to?"  
  
"Oh, definitely. Your son seems very nice. And polite, too. I  
think he apologized four times for getting Dawn in trouble.  
But I know my sister too well to think it was anyone's  
fault but her own. As well as dragging in anyone standing nearby  
who doesn't move fast enough."  
  
"Thank you for saying so. But Clark's fully capable of  
getting in over his head when he wants to... Are you feeling  
better?"  
  
"Amazingly? Yes. I now know Clark, at least a little,   
so I don't feel so bad about not knowing my  
sister's new friend. Which, I guess, you figured would help...."  
  
"Let's say that I feel better having talked to you, at least  
better than I did a few hours ago. Between you and Clark  
I feel like I know Dawn. I was just returning the favor."  
  
"Thanks, Mrs. Kent."  
  
"Martha."  
  
"Martha. Right. Thanks, Martha. You've really been just...  
cool. I appreciate your listening to me. And your advice  
on handling the punishment thing. And everything."  
  
"You're welcome. If anything else to do with Clark  
comes up? Feel free to call. And reverse the charges.  
I don't want there to be any more problems because  
of his friendship with Dawn."  
  
"Oh. I... Thanks. Again. And vice versa. Although, maybe  
not the reversing charges, we kind of have this phone  
bill problem...."  
  
"Say no more. It's been nice talking to you, Buffy. Take it   
easy on Dawn. Fifteen is horrible."  
  
"I've been vividly reminded of that. Thanks. You   
too. ... Good-bye."  
  
"Bye, dear."  
  
- click -  
- click -  
  
~*~  
  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
kikimariposa@prodigy.net 


	5. Negotiating a Truce

By the way, this story is dedicated with affection to the Horsechicks, my  
virtual sisters; and to my real younger sister, who I am very glad I never  
had to be in charge of.  
  
Lines of Communication (5/6)  
by C. L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
Buffy hesitated outside Dawn's room, listening to the strains of Dido's  
"Isobel" for a second. Pink or N'Sync meant Dawn could be pissed off *or*  
happy; Dido meant Dawn was deep in a power-sulk. Wonderful. ~It's not going  
to get any easier if you stall,~ she told herself. ~Of course, I could just  
not do it... and wait for things to get worse. Yeah. Great plan. Not.~  
Taking a deep breath, she knocked. No answer, but then, she hadn't expected  
one. She opened the door and walked in.  
  
Dawn had been lying on her back staring at the ceiling. At the sight of  
Buffy, she flipped onto her stomach to glare through the gaps in the  
headboard at the far wall, her entire body rigid with the "get out!" she  
wasn't shouting.  
  
"Hey." Sullen silence. Buffy knew she was risking another screaming fit, but  
she slowly walked forward and perched on the end of the bed anyway. "So. Are  
you going to hate me forever?"  
  
More silence, and she could see Dawn's fingers clench around the edges of  
the headboard, like a prisoner hanging on to the bars of their jail cell. Or  
maybe she was reading too much into that.  
  
"I'm sorry I lost it earlier. But you have to see this from my point of  
view---"  
  
Dawn hunched her shoulders and buried her head in the pillow, her hands  
still clutching the headboard.  
  
"Then again, maybe you don't." She watched Dawn for a second, trying to  
remember if she'd ever done this to their mother. She was pretty sure she  
hadn't; fights with Mom had been loud and frequent, but the silent treatment  
had always been Dawn's special weapon when she was feeling persecuted.  
Buffy just didn't have the patience. The one time she'd tried it on  
Dawn, her sister had tricked her into talking within two hours, which  
kind of ruined the whole attempt. So much for stoic resistance to pressure.  
  
"I talked with Spike again. Who I'm still not happy with, just so you know.  
And Anya. They said that there weren't any other crimes they were leaving out.  
That they were aware of."  
  
One of Dawn's shoulders jerked, like she was about to turn around, then  
thought better of it. Her body remained stiff and resentful.  
  
Buffy sighed. "And I talked to Clark."  
  
"You what!?" That got her. Dawn flipped over and sat up, her mouth open in  
shock and horror. "You didn't! No! Tell me you're making it up, you  
*couldn't* have talked to him---"  
  
"Why not? You did. Over and over and over---"  
  
"Oh God. Please, please, *tell* me you didn't terminally embarrass me with  
him!"  
  
"Dawn---"  
  
"You had *no right* to forbid me to talk to him, and then go behind my back  
and call Clark and cross-examine him---"  
  
"Dawn, I had _every_ right. Because I love you, and I care about what you're  
doing." Dawn crossed her arms and glared at Buffy, who glared right back,  
feeling her temper start to rise. ~No. No. Don't do that. This isn't about  
you, remember? It's about Dawn. Remember that.~  
  
"You have a funny way of showing it. *Humiliating* me with my friends---  
terrific way to care, Buffy. Very nice. Do you _want_ to ruin my life?" Dawn  
demanded.  
  
"No. And I'm not going to." Buffy relaxed, forcing herself to stay calm. She  
crossed her arms, mimicking Dawn's posture. "You can keep talking to Clark."  
  
"I what?" Her sister blinked in shock, then reverted to the sulkiness of  
seconds before. But her eyes were confused and Buffy stifled a grin of  
satisfaction. "I mean, of course I can. Because you can't tell me what to  
do."  
  
Buffy gave her a Look she'd been practicing in the mirror. "Yes, I can."  
  
"But I don't have to do it! You can't make me! I'm not a little baby, and  
you're not Mom!" Dawn's expression almost crumpled there, and Buffy felt the  
same un-looked-for pang. The one-year anniversary was two weeks away; it  
still didn't seem possible, that Mom had been gone so long. Well, for her  
it hadn't been as long---five months dead *would* screw up your sense of  
time. But for everyone else, it had been a long time. She'd given up  
believing it would ever stop hurting, though. She'd learned that a long time  
ago; when people went away, you never stopped missing them.   
Angel, Dad. Giles. Mom. She just wished that Dawn hadn't had to   
learn it too.  
  
She cleared her throat and stared across the room at Dawn's bookcase, where  
the carefully reconstructed remnants of her sister's journals shared space  
with an old dog-eared version of Winnie the Pooh. "I know I'm not Mom.   
And no, I can't 'make' you do stuff any more. We're both too old for   
that." She glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye, and   
slowly unfolded her arms, toying with the rings on her fingers in   
order to give herself something to do. "But Dawn, when I make rules   
you know it's usually for a good reason. Because I don't want Social   
Services to take you away. But mostly because I want you to be safe."  
  
Dawn scooted backward on the bed, her back against the headboard, and  
avoided her eyes. "You think I can't take care of myself. You think I'm  
stupid---"  
  
"No I don't! I know you're smart, and *that's* why I freak. I remember what  
I did when Mom's back was turned when I was fifteen, and you're smarter than  
I was, sort of. In some ways." Dawn's shoulders had relaxed in surprise at  
the unexpected compliment, and Buffy turned toward her now, hoping she was  
getting through to her. Screaming fits didn't work; sweet reason might not  
either, but she was just desperate enough to use unusual tactics. "You know  
more about vampires and demons than I did then. And I hope --- God, I  
hope--- you've learned from my screw-ups. But Dawn, you can't handle  
*everything.*"  
  
"I'm not the Slayer, I _know_ that. And I'm not you. But... I can do stuff.  
I can handle myself. I could help, if you let me. I want to." Her sister's  
face had never been more pleading, and an unexpected ache flared in Buffy's  
chest. When did Dawn get so old? Was that why she was fighting Dawn so  
hard--- trying to make her ten again, and completely in the dark about the  
things Buffy fought? She'd missed so much last summer.... A scowl settled  
over her sister's face at Buffy's continued silence, and she stuck her  
lip out in a pout. "You don't give me credit, not even for   
self-preservation! You don't even *see* me!"  
  
And there she went, sliding back into being a bratty thirteen-year-old  
again. It was bizarre, how fast Dawn could change from almost-twenty to  
definitely-twelve in the space of a heartbeat. Which also freaked Buffy out,  
if she were honest. But she couldn't let that be the deciding factor in how  
she treated her. Although it was almost impossible not to. God, how did Mom  
*ever* do it?  
  
"Maybe I haven't given you enough credit. But you have to admit--- after  
Halloween, and now this stunt --- you've given me a lot of reasons to worry  
about you." Dawn grimaced and turned away again, her hair falling in her  
face, admitting nothing. "I'll make you a deal?" Her sister tossed   
her head and raised one haughty eyebrow. Buffy's lips twitched,   
but she kept her voice level. "I'll try to trust you--- and not be so busy--- if you'll *tell* me stuff. I know I haven't been around enough.... But  
I've got a regular, sucky, eight-hour shift job now. As well as the  
Slaying. But I'll be here more." Spike would understand. He'd have   
to. Dawn came first. He was a hundred and forty-something years old,  
he could just deal--- even if he acted Dawn's age when he didn't get  
his way sometimes. "I swear."  
  
Dawn's eyes were wary and skeptical. "And how will that help, if you're  
still going to wig when I tell you stuff?"  
  
"I won't." Said with a bright, perky grin perfected over extra-shift hours  
at the Palace.  
  
Too bad Dawn had so much sales resistance. "Tchah! Right."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe I will freak. But then, I'll get over  
it. And I'll listen. Like now."  
  
"So far, *you're* doing all the talking."  
  
"Good point." She shrugged her shoulders questioningly, and kept  
her voice as reasonable as she was capable of. "So... Tell me  
something. Maybe about Clark. Tell me why being friends with him is so  
important that you ran up a couple hundred dollar phone bill."  
  
"I...." Dawn bit her lower lip, got up from the bed and started fidgeting  
with her jewelry box on her vanity table. "I don't know! It just is."  
  
"He seemed nice when I talked to him on the phone." She tried to keep her  
tone encouraging, then grinned at her sister in the mirror, going for the  
cheap shot. "And he said you think he's a dork?"  
  
"That's because he *is* a dork." Dawn sat down at vanity and started  
re-arranging the makeup tubes and perfume bottles, glaring at them like  
they'd mortally insulted her taste in nail polish. "Someone who isn't a dork  
would've known how to lie when his parents asked how we met. Mega-dork." She  
turned around to face Buffy, her face animated and most of the hostility  
finally gone. "I had to help pay for these candy bars that fell out  
of the vending machine in Denver because of him, instead of just   
eating them like any *normal* person. And he's always telling me to  
suck it up around Kirstie at school and not listen to what she says,  
and... he's just... he's a dork. He's a *Boy Scout*. He's Dudley   
Do-Right! Without the red suit!"  
  
Which had been pretty much Buffy's impression of him, even on the phone.  
"Then why are you friends with him, if he's a dork and he thinks you're  
crazy?"  
  
Dawn didn't even bother commenting on that last bit, just gave Buffy the  
most exasperated 'duh' look in her arsenal. "Because he's *cool."  
  
"Oh." Suddenly, she got a flash of how Giles must have felt dealing with  
her, a couple years ago. ~I should send him a sympathy card...~  
  
"He *listens* to me. He helps with my math, and he likes the same books---  
even though he's into some weird junk too, he's really advanced--- and he  
gets... stuff." Dawn ducked her head and began rummaging in the jewelry box  
a little harder than really necessary. Considering how many rings and  
bracelets she already had on.  
  
"He said you know 'stuff' about him, too. Personal stuff? And that he didn't  
know if you'd want me to know that you'd told him some of it?"  
  
"It's not like that. It's not like I'm keeping more secrets from you," Dawn  
muttered, fiddling with a pair of earrings. She met Buffy's eyes in the  
mirror. "You *know* everything I've told him. I..." She turned around again,  
her expression scared. "Promise not to be mad?"  
  
Oh, boy. "I... promise to try not to be?"  
  
Dawn swallowed, hard, then let her gaze drop to the carpet, her voice barely  
audible. "I sortoftoldhimaboutbeingtheKey."  
  
"You *what*?" That was *not* what she'd been expecting. Stuff about Dad,  
maybe. Stuff about Buffy. *That*--- was so totally not what she'd seen  
coming, that she didn't even know what she thought about it.  
  
Dawn's head jerked up and she tried to look disgusted instead of nervous,  
if the twisting fingers were any indication. "See. I *knew* you'd say that.  
Which is why I didn't tell you. Because it's totally okay and he gets that  
it's a secret and he doesn't *care*---"  
  
"Dawn, you _know_ it's not safe for anyone to know--- what if he told  
someone? What if he was evil, or told anyone who was?" The wild fear from  
last May was trying to come back, and Buffy had to stuff it back in its  
mental box, tell herself that if the worst were going to happen, it would've  
already happened. It didn't help much, though. She kept thinking of Ben, and  
how she'd led him and Glory--- right to Dawn. *No one* was safe enough to  
know that kind of secret.  
  
"It is! It is safe for him to know! You don't know him, how can you say it's  
not safe?" Dawn was up and pacing around the room now, arms crossed  
defensively. "I know lots of blackmail material on Clark, and he told me all  
of it first, and I *know* what he said is true, and---"  
  
"It's dangerous---"  
  
"All of *your* friends know. Everyone who really counts knows. And Clark  
counts with me! So he should know." She sat down on the bed next to Buffy,  
staring at her with please-oh-please eyes. "Don't you get it? Weren't you  
really relieved when you made friends with Willow and Xander, and they  
didn't care about you being the Slayer? Giles didn't want you to tell---"  
  
"I *didn't* tell, it just sort of... came out." Saving their lives before  
the Harvest kind of deep-sixed hiding the big ole storage room  
that was a Slayer's life. "And I was out of the Slayer closet before Willow  
and Xander knew there was a broom! It's not the same thing!"  
  
"But you stayed friends with them, when it was dangerous to them and  
against the rules for you. They wouldn't let you ditch them. That's what  
real friends do," Dawn insisted. "It *is* the same thing. Clark has stuff,  
and I have stuff, and it's not the same stuff, but it *is*. And he gets what  
it's like going to school and feeling like a freak with a secret, and he  
likes me, Buffy. He likes me for me, not just the weird stuff. He---  
he's---" She pounded her comforter with a fist for a second, then sighed,  
winding down, her voice quieter. "He's my Xander."  
  
Buffy frowned, fear and anger pushed aside in a wave of pure confusion. "You  
already *have* a Xander."  
  
"No, *you* already have a Xander. I have my older sister's best guy-friend  
who treats me like I'm his little sister too." Dawn shrugged, her voice  
flat. "Which is great. And I love him. But it's not the same thing, and it's  
like that with everyone else, too, almost. Giles. Willow. Anya. Tara and  
Spike aren't as bad, but... She was Willow's Tara, first. And Spike's---  
Spike. I'll be a platelet when I'm eighty, with him. Which is okay. But it's  
not the same as having someone who's just *mine*."  
  
"Dawn...." Should she apologize? Explain? What was she supposed to say, when  
she hadn't seen what Dawn had? When it wasn't totally untrue? "They love  
you, you know that---"  
  
"Don't. Just don't, okay? I don't care. Much." She ducked her head, her hair  
in her face again, and didn't move when Buffy brushed it away, pulling it  
behind her ear and stroking the length down to her shoulder. Dawn sighed,  
and met her eyes. "Maybe it'll be different when I'm older. Or maybe it'll  
be different if Janice ever gets out of denial about Halloween, or if Lisa  
or Melinda wake up and smell the latte that the Hellmouth Cafeteria serves.  
But right now, Clark's the only one who *really* understands my life. And he  
lives in stupid Kansas." She grimaced. "What would *you* do, if Xander moved  
to Kansas on you, and you couldn't see him every day? And if Willow went  
with him?"  
  
"I'd... probably run up a heinous phone bill, talking to them," Buffy  
admitted, her brain twisting around the concept of Dawn having her own  
Xander. Or of Dawn being Clark's... Willow? Or Buffy? Weirdness.  
  
But wasn't that fair? Dawn *should* have friends like that. It wasn't her  
fault that being the Key was so much stranger than being a Slayer. Or that  
everyone else who knew about it was a good five years and a million miles of  
Hellmouth freeway older.  
  
"See? So? There you go." Dawn picked up one of her Beanie Babies and made a  
face at it. "Besides, if he doesn't have me to give him advice, Clark is  
*never* going to get Lana to notice him. He's sweet, but he's way more  
clueless than Xander ever was."  
  
"Don't be so sure. Remember the praying mantis chick? And Ampata?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. Wow, did I hate her."  
  
Buffy grinned. "You had good instincts. Helped by raging jealousy, but  
still---"  
  
"I was not that jealous! I just didn't think she was his type. That was  
all." Dawn sniffed, then smirked. "Which I was wrong about, I guess, if  
Anya's his type too."  
  
"Xander's always been attracted to the dangerous ones." Buffy sighed, and  
rolled her eyes her sister, who was now dancing the stuffed dog across her  
lap, sensing her sister's altered mood and taking advantage of it. She'd  
wanted to unilaterally forbid Dawn to talk to Clark when she first got the  
bill; but he was too sweet and harmless. And his mom was too nice. And Dawn  
was way too stubborn. It would never have worked. Which didn't mean she  
couldn't wish it would. Simple would've been nice. But no go, so.... "I  
still hate this. That Clark knows about you. But... if he's known for a  
month and nothing's happened, I guess--- I guess it's okay."  
  
"Thank you, Queen of Paranoia." Dawn's grin was a lot more grateful than her  
words, and the dog did a cheerful little spin on the comforter.  
  
"And you can talk to him one more time before your punishment starts."  
  
Dawn's face fell, and the dog stopped dancing. "I'm still punished?"  
  
"Yes, you're still punished. Jeez, Dawn. You ran away, scared me, lied to  
me, and now we owe $212.56 to the phone company. And they didn't love us  
before this, remember?" she said, nudging Dawn's arm with her shoulder.  
  
"I know, but, I explained why---"  
  
"Calm down, okay? I talked to Clark's mom, too. Clark's grounded for two  
weeks from the phone. So... I guess that's fair. It'll give you time to earn  
more money from Anya to help pay the phone bill," Buffy added pointedly.  
  
"I really have to pay?"  
  
"Do you really think you shouldn't?"  
  
"No," Dawn admitted with a pout. "I just... Can we do it in installments?"  
  
"Sure. That's how Mom let me pay for the damage to the Jeep." Buffy took  
the dog from Dawn's hands, and gave it a little squeeze, staring at it  
instead of her sister. "The running-away punishment--- I guess Spike and  
Anya handled that. Mostly. It really would be overkill to do it again." She  
steeled herself and looked up from the stuffed animal. "The lying-to-me  
punishment--- that's a week here at home. No Bronze. No parties. No fun. And  
a lot of time with your sister."  
  
Dawn narrowed her eyes consideringly. "Xander and Tara and Spike will still  
come over sometimes this week, right?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Then I guess I can deal. If you're going to be home too." Another  
I-don't-care shrug she had to have learned from Spike. "As long as I can  
email Clark, and talk with him in the chatrooms? Right?"  
  
"Right, yes. Okay. Mom never *completely* cut me off from everyone else...  
and since you can't see him at school, I guess that's... fair. I think."  
Buffy squeezed the dog with an excess of worry, and Dawn pointedly extracted  
him before she could break it. "Sorry. I get stressed. About this. And what  
to do. And... I'm sorry."  
  
Dawn blinked. "For what?"  
  
"For not realizing how hard Christmas was on you. We could've helped each  
other." She stroked Dawn's hair again. "And for not guessing that you'd  
left. I would've gone after you, you know. No matter what. You're my sister.  
You're more important than anything else."  
  
"I know." Dawn leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Buffy, and she  
shut her eyes tight against tears of relief. The last time Dawn had  
spontaneously hugged her had been when she came back; when she was still in  
too much shock to appreciate it. Maybe she didn't really want to hate Buffy  
after all. Maybe Martha was right; maybe she wasn't *completely* hopeless at  
this parental thing.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, then pulled back, rubbing at her eyes. "Even  
when you *really* screw up and do stupid things."  
  
The look on Dawn's face could only be described as wicked. Scarier than  
Faith or Spike or Xander with an idea in his brain had ever managed. Buffy  
had one second to dread whatever Dawn was going to say before she said it.  
  
"I love you too. Even when *you're* screwing up. And doing stupid things.  
And boinking Spike."  
  
"DAWN!"  
  
"Heh, hehehehheee..."  
  
She *really* had to call Giles and apologize for everything she ever did.  
Maybe that'd even out her karma enough to stop Dawn from *doing* stuff like  
this. And giggling like that afterward.  
  
In the meantime, a pillow-fight was her only sane option, so she took it.  
  
***  
One last bit to go...  
  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
kikimariposa@prodigy.net 


	6. E-mail Epilogue

It's been fun, guys. And now I'm taking a break; the next one  
is going to have a lot more plot, wherever it ends up.   
  
Thanks to everyone who's commented and liked it! Hope this ending  
fulfills some expectations...  
  
Disclaimers in part 1.   
  
Lines of Communication (6/6)  
by C. L. Kamnikar  
copyright 2002  
  
FROM: auroragrrl@hotmail.com  
TO: ckentrun@ks.metro.net  
DATE: 01/31/02 9:12 PM PST  
SUBJECT: One week  
  
...since the grounding. Weird. It's *finally* over tonight. You'd think  
Buffy would've been satisfied with Anya and Spike punishing me, but she  
wanted to give it that 'personal touch.' I don't know how many games of  
Monopoly we've played this week, while she's been Stay-In Sister and I've  
been Grounded Girl. She might be the Slayer, but she sucks at getting the  
Utilities and Park Place, and she owes me $21,340 virtual bucks at this  
point.  
  
Are you still mad at me? For not lying fast enough when my parents  
asked how I knew you?  
  
No, I'm not. I *knew* you weren't a good liar five minutes after we met.  
It's not like we shouldn't have had a cover story ready--- or just not have  
run up such huge bills in the first place! It's okay, Clark. It was my fault  
too. I'm just glad that your parents don't know about Buffy's thing or me being  
a Key, and that Buffy never *did* ask what the blackmail material I had  
on you was.  
  
But I still think it's too bad that the Nerd Herd didn't get blamed for it  
instead of us.  
  
Gotta go. I've been thinking that maybe (*maybe*) you were right about  
the junk I took from the shop--- and Spike's going to help me break back in,  
and put the jewelry back in inventory. We've got a very small time window between Buffy being at work and coming home to patrol, so  
  
Hasta pasta!  
  
Dawn of a New Age of Enlightenment  
  
^*^*^*^  
FROM: ckentrun@ks.metro.net  
TO: auroragrrl@hotmail.com  
DATE: 01/31/02 11:27 PM CST  
SUBJECT: RE: One week  
  
Glad you're not mad at me, even though I wouldn't blame you too much if you  
were. But it wouldn't have helped if I'd lied. I had to claim 'private secrets' to keep everything you told me to myself! Mom's got super-lie-detector  
skills, and lying would've made it worse, so... Lex keeps threatening to give  
me a seminar on how to lie, cheat, and scheme--- I think he and your buddy  
Spike must've gone to the same colleges. Or maybe they just hang out in the  
same bars.  
  
Careful not getting caught tonight--- Anya sounds scary enough, but I'm  
really hoping Buffy won't be able to ground you from the phone for *another*  
week if the putting-stuff-back plan doesn't work out. You couldn't do  
things the easy way, and just hand it over to them and apologize?  
  
Wait. What am I saying.... Easy way, right. Not compatible with Dawn  
Summers. Forget I asked.  
  
Congratulations on the return to freedom, though. And in another week, you  
can hear me angst about Lana in person again! I know how inspiring that  
must be for you.  
  
On the other hand, I can probably explain better why Chloe kissed me over  
the phone than I ever could in writing. Or maybe *you* can explain it to  
*me*.  
  
Either way, I'm not telling you about it 'til then. Too weird. And maybe  
you'll stay out of trouble with some incentive.   
  
Good night, Sunrise---  
  
Clark after dark  
  
*^*^*^*^  
FROM: auroragrrl@hotmail.com  
TO: ckentrun@ks.metro.net  
DATE: 01/31/02 10:24 PM PST  
SUBJECT: RE: Re: One week  
  
*Why* do you torment me like that!? You drop these *hints* of really juicy  
stuff happening, and then you sign off, and--- grrrrr!  
  
(She *kissed* you? Friend-kissed-you, or *KISSED* you? You *have* to tell  
me!)  
  
Anyway. We put it all back, no biggie. Now my conscience is *totally* clear.  
Technically I should probably tell Anya about the shoplifting, and Buffy  
too, but you know what? I've been really really punished for all sorts of  
behavior this last month, I've really really learned my lesson, and right  
now is where moral relativity comes into play. This is as good as I am able  
to be, at least until the statute of limitations is up and I'm in college  
where Buffy can't ground me any more.  
  
Spike and Lex in a bar. In the *same* bar. There's a mental image that...  
just isn't happening. Hunh. Maybe an airport bar. But wait, he has a jet,  
what would Lex be doing in the airport's bar? ... Now you've got me thinking  
about this too much. When we're legal, we have to make them take us to a bar  
together just so I can finally see this.  
  
One more week until you are *going* to spill the story on the Chloe-kiss,  
Clark--- and it better be worth it! Especially if you're going to be a  
mother-hen about me getting in trouble until then....  
  
I'm not really *glad* it all came out like this, but you know what? It's  
okay now. Bizarre. It's been a while since things took a turn for the  
better, instead of for the extremely worse. Maybe we'll even get through  
Buffy's birthday party next week without being attacked by trolls. Again.  
  
Sleep tight---  
  
Dawning Curiosity  
  
*^*^*^*^*^  
FROM: ckentrun@ks.metro.net  
TO: auroragrrl@hotmail.com  
DATE: 02/01/02 7:47 AM CST  
SUBJECT: Re: RE: Re:One week  
  
Okay. Talk about cruel. I'm late for the bus, I can't even call you to ask,  
and all I have to say is---  
  
Trolls!?  
  
You're explaining that one as soon as I'm back from class!  
  
InaterribleincrediblehurrywithmyMomyellingatmewhooooshandI'mgone---  
  
Clark  
  
****  
  
Comments, chocolate, requests for Lex's fax number?  
Send 'em to  
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{  
kikimariposa@prodigy.net 


End file.
